


Stitched Together

by butterflydreaming (chrysalisdreams)



Category: Cardcaptor Sakura, Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 07:00:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/808652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrysalisdreams/pseuds/butterflydreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fusion with the novel Peter Pan, and a Naoko/Eriol pairing! 0_o</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stitched Together

  


All children, except one, grow up.Naoko knew this, and as much as she enjoyed being a young girl, she loved to read “grown-up” stories, and to make-believe that she was something other than a quiet twelve-year-old with her nose always in a book.Make-believe meant that she could be more than an ordinary girl, with a plain face and plain brown hair, and unnoticeable clothes.So she told stories – to an audience of two, her shadow and her reflection – acting her tales out in the bedroom that she had all to herself.“Once upon a time,” she would begin, and then spin out a story of princesses and pirates, mermaids and mystery.Though she sat still and modest when in school, or otherwise surrounded by people, in her room she would leap from chair to bed, demonstrating the magnificent leap that her hero would take when the bridge beneath him crumbled away, burning with dragon’s fire.She danced the wild dances of the old witches around their brewing cauldron; she stalked like the mad man-eating tiger.

She _thought_ that when she made herself up in fancy dress, and when she painted her face with her mother’s discarded cosmetics, that she had only that small audience of two.It was a long time before she discovered that her audience consisted of _one more_.

She had cried herself to sleep, after working on sewing a teddy bear for no-one in particular, which is what had set her off crying.The partially sewn-on limbs of the stuffed doll, and her sewing basket, were mixed up in the bed with her.If the rueful chuckling had not woken her, a poke from a loose needle might have done so later in the night.But as it was, it _was_ the soft laughter that woke her up.She sat up in her bed, and her eyes grew wide.She fumbled for her glasses, and her eyes grew wider still when things came into focus.

A boy her age, his black hair glistening in the glow of a strange pink light, sat on the floor of her room, a bottle of Nori glue in one hand and the foot of his shadow in the other.The drawer of her dresser, from which the pink light emitted, was rattling animatedly.Glue dripped from the boy’s bare foot, and the shadow was wriggling like a fish just caught.

This was just like a story, Naoko thought to herself.

“Um,” she said, almost inaudibly.The boy turned and looked up at her; his eyes behind his glasses were deep and black, but they sparkled.“Um,” she said again, minutely louder.“That won’t work.It takes forever to dry.”

The boy, dejected, dropped his forehead into his palm.His shadow took the opportunity to slither from his grip, but the boy snatched his hand out and quickly caught it again without changing his pose.“I don’t suppose that you know a better method,” queried the boy dryly.

Naoko slipped out of her bed and crossed the few steps to her desk.For a moment she looked out the window; she had left it just slightly open, and the mild wind that was moving clouds across the stars whispered the night into her room. _I could be dreaming_ , she thought.Picking up her mini-stapler, she turned to her unexpected guest.“Have you tried stapling it on?” she asked. 

The black-haired boy presented the shadow’s other foot, which was riddled with staples.“It pulled free,” he said.

“Oh,” answered Naoko.After a few moments of sleepy thought, she mused, “I suppose that I could sew it on.”The boy agreed to this plan, so Naoko gathered up the scattered contents of her sewing kit from her bedsheets, found a needle and some dark grey thread, and set to work.She didn’t have the prettiest stitches, but they were firm, and when the boy let go of his shadow, the shadow remained attached.

The boy stood up, testing the seams, and winced.“Hurts, a bit,” he said bravely.

“When I have a hurt,” Naoko said, a little too loudly, and with a wild blushing, “my Mother gives me a kiss… to make it feel better,” she finished, mumbling.

“A kiss?” asked the boy.

“Y-yes,” agreed Naoko.

He tipped his head, a curious smirk on his handsome face.“What is a kiss?” he asked.

Naoko blushed even harder.“Oh!” she exclaimed.She fished around in her sewing basket, and found a thimble.“Here,” she said, shoving the thimble into his hands.

“Now,” the boy said, “shall I give you a kiss?”

“If you want to,” mumbled Naoko, looking at the floor.Then she lifted her head boldly and, closing her eyes, inclined her face towards him.She was surprized when she felt him push something into her hands; she opened her eyes to see that it was a large button.“Thank you,” she said politely.“I’ll wear this every day,” she added, with what she hoped sounded like appropriate courtesy.She put the button on a braided string, and tied it around her neck as a necklace.

It was lucky that she did, too, for it was afterwards to save her life.

There was a sound, like sleigh bells being angrily shaken, and the dresser drawer rattled loudly.“Oh, I almost forgot.Ruby,” said the boy, reaching to open it.

“Don’t!” cried Naoko in horror.The boy paused, and stared.Naoko rushed on before thinking.“That’s my pant – I mean that drawer has private things!”

“But Ruby Moon is trapped in there,” the boy answered reassuringly.

“Well, um, then – turn around and I’ll open it,” the girl answered, not knowing who or what “Ruby Moon” was, but certain that she did not want him seeing her underthings.He turned his back to her obligingly; she took the handle of the drawer that was streaming pink light and pulled it open.Something small and fast burst out in a fury of sparkles, the tinkling-bell sound spilling around the two children like the buzzing of an angry wasp.Though Naoko cringed backward, her guest stood calmly and smiled.Being berated by a tiny, pink, butterfly-winged woman seemed to be a completely normal occurrence for him.When she was done haranguing her companion, she stood on his shoulder and glared at Naoko.The boy turned to leave, heading to the open window.“Where will you go, when you leave?” asked Naoko; there was a note of dismay in her voice.

The boy pointed out the window, at a starry space between two moving clouds.“Second to the right,” he replied.“And straight on till morning.Neverland.” 

“Won’t you tell me your name?” Naoko shouted suddenly, taking a step after him. 

He turned to face her again, and bowed with a gentleman’s grace.“Eriol,” he said simply.He moved toward the window again, but paused.“Do you know,” he asked, “why swallows build their nests in the eaves of houses?It is to listen to the stories, told in the houses at night.”He smiled.“I like your stories,” he said.

“Don’t go, Eriol,” Naoko pleaded.“I know lots of stories.”

“Then come with me,” said Eriol.

. . . 

**Author's Note:**

> Tsukimine Shrine Challenge:  Different Worlds  
> Canon: No  
> Word Count: 1206  
> Rating: PG  
> Explanation: Crossover/fusion time! Take another work (established world: not fanfiction) and fuse it with CCS  
> I don't plan to continue this story. It was fun, and I love Naoko, but I don't think I could ever say anything novel in this direction.


End file.
